


all is fair in love and war

by bleedingdaylight



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Euros 2016, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingdaylight/pseuds/bleedingdaylight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as Jerome’s walking up to Manuel, he catches Robert’s eye and smirks when Robert winks at him and mouths, “It was a foul.” What a complainer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all is fair in love and war

**Author's Note:**

> set during germany vs poland. all i know is that jerome and robert were doing a lot of talking throughout the match.

Defending Robert is a pain in the ass. Obviously Jerome knows this, he played against him up until two seasons ago, and he had been a pain in the ass then, too. It’s just easy to forget when he’s played on his side for what seems like so long at this point.

It’s like the third time Robert’s gotten the ball in a dangerous position and Jerome is forced to chase after him, tackling him. It’s a fairly clean tackle, one of the better tackles Jerome has made tonight, and possession is successfully switched. Jerome breathes a sigh of relief while Robert lets out a breath of frustration.

“I hate playing against you,” Robert mutters to him, his features tight with frustration yet a pseudo-smile ghosting his lips. “You’re so annoying because you’re so hard to beat.”

Jerome chuckles and helps him back to his feet. “Are you seriously pouting about me doing my job?”

“No,” Robert scoffs, but his lips are definitely forming a pout. It was adorable, really. When Jerome tells him so, he just pouts more. “Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. I’m going to beat you anyway, wait for it.”

Jerome raises his eyebrow at the challenge. “That won’t be happening, but good luck trying,” he responds, unbothered but dreading the remaining twenty-five minutes or so left in the match. Jerome knows Lewy gets fired up when he gets challenged, and he just made a mistake of falling into his trap.

“We’ll see,” Robert says, smirking as he jogs away towards where the ball is being played up the pitch by Toni.

“Dear God, have mercy,” Jerome mutters, looking up, hoping someone hears his plea.

So, Jerome was right. Probably the fifth or sixth time Robert tries to dribble past him, Jerome is forced to make the tackle, and Robert goes down hard. Jerome knows it wasn’t the cleanest tackle per se, but he mostly got ball yet Robert is yelling at the referee for a free kick and Jerome rolls his eyes.

“That was barely a foul, if anything,” Jerome says, and Robert rolls his eyes at him.

“That was a foul and you know it,” Robert says, getting back on his feet when he accepts the fact he’s not getting the call.

“Yeah, okay, Lewy,” Jerome says, rolling his eyes back and leaves Robert to continue to mutter complaints under his breath.

Jerome lets out a huge sigh of relief when the final whistle is blown. It was a hard fought battle, this match, but at least they got a point out of it. He goes over to thank Manuel for his efforts and applaud the German supporters with the rest of his team. Just as he’s walking up to Manuel, he catches Robert’s eye and smirks when Robert winks at him and mouths, “It was a foul.” What a complainer.

Later that night, tucked into a queen-sized hotel room bed, the bed next to him empty, Mario probably somewhere on the phone with Marco, Jerome chuckles. “You complain so much on the pitch,” he teases.

“Shut up, it was a foul,” Robert whines, sitting up slightly to lightly smack Jerome on the head. “You know what, since you don’t believe me, we’re going to watch a replay of the game to see.”

Jerome groans. “Or we can spend our precious time together doing more productive things?”

Robert waggles his eyebrows obscenely and Jerome rolls his eyes and punches him lightly on his bicep. He leans in as if he was going in for a kiss and Jerome follows his lead, but ends up just kissing air as Robert pulls away and gets out of bed to retrieve the television remote on the desk.

“You’re the actual worst,” Jerome informs him, enjoying the view of Robert’s ass as he bends over to get the remote. “Why do I put up with you? All you do is complain and deny me love.”

“Shut up, I'm the light of your life,” Robert responds sunnily, crawling back into bed. He scrolls through the channels until he find the game playing, still only twenty minutes in.

“You’re going to make me sit through this entire game until we get to the tackle, aren’t you,” Jerome states because he knows Robert, and knows he’s a pain in the ass.

“Yup,” Robert replies, smiling brightly at Jerome.

Jerome sighs. “You’re a pain in the ass,” he says but pulls Robert closer to him, tucking him into his chest.

“But I’m your pain in the ass.” Robert looks up at him, his blue eyes shining bright in the dim light and Jerome can’t help the fond smile that overtakes his lips and leans down to kiss him.

“Yup,” he agrees when he pulls back and settles in while Robert starts yelling about some missed call and how there is obvious bias towards the Germans in the game. “Jeez, you complain so much,” Jerome says but honestly, he doesn’t really mind so much.


End file.
